


When You're Coming Home

by berrychowder



Series: "Based On..." Fics [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Five Stages of Grief, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Persona 5, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, mention of sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrychowder/pseuds/berrychowder
Summary: As he listens to the news, the cries, the doctors, one thought becomes a mantra in his head.Akira isn't coming home, is he?
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Sakamoto Ryuji, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: "Based On..." Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773163
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	When You're Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Akira is tagged even though he technically never appears in the fic... whatever lol he's mentioned enough to be there  
> \--  
> this fic is based on two songs: So Cold by Ben Cocks and Ass Back Home by Gym Class Heroes  
> \--  
> ignore the fact that same-sex marriage isn't legal in Japan and ignore the fact that Ben Cocks and Ass Back Home are not a name and title that should go together  
> \--  
> let me know if i need to add more tags & sorry for any lingering italic-related formatting issues i missed uwu  
> \--  
> i am super active on my instagram which is also berrychowder (you can find more ways to find/support me there!)

Goro’s apartment has become much more lively ever since Akira moved in over a year ago. His once bare shelves are now filled with numerous picture frames and various objects that have been collected from dates and group outings. The walls are no longer a boring beige, but navy blue with off-white accents (he never thought that he would actually enjoy painting a wall, let alone watching it dry). The kitchen is stocked with food and _real_ plates and silverware- no more plastic or late night stops at the convenience store. Jesus, they even have a small dining table where they eat their meals together. It feels like a real home, something he hasn’t felt since he lived with his mother as a child. 

Overall, the biggest change, besides Akira, is the overwhelming amount of freedom he has. After high school, and everything that happened during it, he decided to take a step back from the whole celebrity gig. He took a break and spent his first year out of school focusing on bettering himself and his relationship with Akira and the rest of the former Phantom Thieves. Two years after that, he's finally doing _honest_ work as a detective and taking online classes. 

Unlike Goro, Akira didn’t take any breaks after school. He jumped straight into university, pursuing a degree in psychology and working at Leblanc whenever he could find the time. Most days, Akira is out the door by 6 A.M. at the latest, but not before making coffee and breakfast. 

Contrary to popular belief, Goro Akechi is not and has never been, a morning person. Makeup and caffeine are the only things that kept him functioning for early morning interviews and public appearances. Also contrary to popular belief, Akira Kurusu is, and has always been, a morning person. The life of the leader of a borderline terrorist group often left him more fatigued and burnt out than ever before, so his early bird lifestyle briefly got lost amidst the stress and exhaustion. He bounced back rather quickly, though. He used to try to drag Goro out of bed so they could enjoy breakfast together, but he stopped after about his first week of moving in- recognizing a lost cause when he sees one. Akira works around Goro’s schedule- a plate of breakfast is covered and put in the microwave to stay warm, and coffee is poured into a thermos and placed on their bedside table for Goro to chug upon awakening. 

Blinding sunlight fills the bedroom, pouring in from a gap between the curtains where they weren’t quite closed all the way (he _knows_ he closed them last night). He doesn’t have to be at the station today, and he longs to get a few extra hours of sleep in, but unfortunately, due to the negligence of a certain frizzy-haired twenty year old that does _not_ encourage sleeping the day away, it’s far too bright to even think about falling back asleep. He’s cursed to forever suffer from dark circles and heavy eye bags. 

The strange sleeping position he had assumed last night left him with a painful crick in his neck, which will no doubt give him a headache later on. It’s 8 A.M. on the dot, and when Goro takes a sip of his morning coffee, he finds that it is still pleasantly hot; so much so that it scalds his tongue. Turning, he sees the first note of today with two white pills on top of it. Tylenol. Akira knows him far too well. 

_Today’s coffee is Ethiopian_ _~~Yurgacheffe~~ _ _Yirgacheffe! The beans have a sort of fruitiness to them, so I mixed some sweet cream in to make it kind of?? taste like a blueberry muffin. Idk just drink it I tried. Also yw for the drugs._

Goro will give credit where credit is due. He can certainly taste the blueberry, though he’d argue that the taste resembles that of a cupcake rather than a muffin due to the sweetness and smoothness of it. A good brew, he’ll have to ask Akira to make this one again. 

In the kitchen, the dishes are already done and the table is set for one. He takes his plate of food out of the microwave, and though it’s covered by foil, he can feel the heat radiating off of it, gently warming his cold hands. He hopes it tastes as good as it smells. Akira must have been running quite late this morning considering the state of the house and his breakfast. 

He removes the foil and the purple sticky note that was attached to it. He stares at his now uncovered plate and frowns, looking back at the note. 

_Blueberry pancakes to go with your blueberry not-pancakes coffee. Wasn’t sure if I had enough time to make muffins, so pancake boy gets DeLiCiOuS pancakes instead. #enemiestolovers_

Ah, yes. The awful pancake joke that he can’t seem to go for more than 24 hours without hearing, even though it’s been nearly five years since the event that started it. Hilarious. So original. 

He rather grumpily drowns the atrocities in thick syrup and is disappointed by the fact that they still taste good even as a pile of liquid mush. Thank the gods that he’ll be marrying someone with the ability to cook. He’d sooner starve before ever eating a cup of instant noodles again, even if he has to carry the weight of those words for the rest of his life. 

He’s really in trouble if Akira doesn’t say yes- physically and financially. He never knew that engagement rings were so expensive until he had to buy a set himself. He even had to break into his savings account so he would have enough money to cover this month’s rent, less he wants Akira to become suspicious as to where thousands of yen went. 

Akira hasn’t been on good terms with his parents since his initial arrest, even if he were proven to be innocent in the end. They never welcomed him back home, and soon enough he was back in Leblanc’s attic. Nonetheless, Goro still wanted to stick to the traditions, even if they are mostly tailored to a man and a woman, so he ultimately decided to ask Sojiro Sakura for Akira’s hand in marriage. It went as well as one might expect, especially since Futaba hasn’t given up her favourite hobby- eavesdropping. Since then, he’s been met with disapproving stares whenever he enters the cafe to visit. Futaba even told him not to return until Akira shows up at work with a ring on his finger. 

He’s being honest when he says that there just hasn’t been a good time to do it. The opportunity hasn’t presented itself yet. Akira would be embarrassed by something extravagant, especially if it were in the eyes of a crowd, so that’s out of the question. Goro feels that a private proposal is not special enough, but since Akira would be uncomfortable with the very public and very grand event he originally had planned, he’s left with very few options to choose from. 

He’s most definitely overthinking this, just as he does with everything, so maybe he should just suck it up and be spontaneous; or perhaps even better, he could finish his meal and stop overthinking something so simple. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if the ring was covered in a thin layer of dust.

It occurs to him that he hasn’t seen or heard Morgana for as long as he has been awake, and when he calls for him the only sound that can be heard is the wind howling outside. Morgana usually stays with Goro if he doesn’t have to be at the station. 

Akira obviously wasn’t in a rush this morning, and Morgana hates going to Akira’s campus because he has to stay shoved in his bag during lectures. Did class get cancelled? It’s rather monochrome outside. There could be some sort of weather advisory, but would a tiny bit of rain really warrant that kind of response?

He places his dishes in the sink. He’ll worry about it after he takes a shower. He should have taken one last night like Akira said, but he was too tired after devoting 12 straight hours to solving a particularly frustrating case, and then spending another hour having sex with Akira in an attempt to take out said frustration. He feels worse now, his skin is sticky with sweat and will likely breakout later, but at least the sex was good. 

There is no bathtub, much to the displeasure of Akira, but at least the bathroom itself is spacious. There’s a rack shoved in the corner that has about 30 different bottles of soap; that alone makes this the most disorganized room in the house. The two of them are both neat freaks, and they couldn’t come to an agreement on how the bottles should be put away, so it, along with the bookshelf in the living room, is a complete disaster. 

The porcelain sink is stained from when Akira decided that he wanted to dye his hair light brown and force Goro to dye his own black; none of it ended up in their hair. The countertop itself is trashed with enough cosmetics and hair products to fill up a Takashimaya store; Akira claims that he wants to have a ‘professional vibe’, so he’s set on getting his unruly hair to cooperate. Goro isn’t nearly as obsessed about his appearance as he used to be, but he still cares enough to use concealer and blush to give the impression that he isn’t dead inside. 

_told you so, nasty boy_

  
  


This is worse than the pancake one. 

What does that even _mean?_ He’s not a- a- _nasty boy._ He’s a grown ass man. An adult! He’s literally over a year older than Akira. 

  
  


The orange note leaves a tacky residue on the glass door of the shower when he peels it away, which Goro will not be scrubbing off thank you very much. 

He has kept every single note that Akira has left him over the course of the year, no matter how short or stupid it was, however, he greatly considers chucking today’s batch into a roaring fire. 

Side eyeing the overflowing clothing hamper, he discards his clothes on the floor, promising himself that he’ll do a few loads later. Then again, he always tells himself that and Akira always ends up doing it. Strangely, Goro recalls a long interrogation where the suspect demanded to know the brand of perfume his girlfriend uses. He didn’t have the heart to tell the poor guy that not only has voluntary manslaughter been added to his ever growing list of charges, but Goro’s ‘girlfriend’ is a man and the ‘perfume’ is just a can of extremely fragrant hairspray. They should move the hamper into the bedroom. 

He doesn’t spend long in the shower. He washes his hair with strawberry shampoo and conditioner to fit the recurring fruit and berry theme, slams his head against the wall a few times just to hear that satisfying hollow bang, and finishes up after dropping three bottles of soap on his toes. He gets dressed even though he doesn’t intend on going out and spends longer than necessary pulling out grey strands of his hair in the mirror. 

Akira still hasn’t called or texted to give any indication as to where he is at, so Goro supposes he has a while to waste. He picks up a book he’s been wanting to read, but can’t concentrate- it’s thrown aside in exchange for the TV remote. The news has nothing to offer except for today’s rainy weather forecast and a developing story of a train on the Keio Inokashira Line that derailed. Probably why Akira ended up running late this morning, but it looks like it just happened… 

Goro turns the volume up. 

“-One survivor has been pulled from the wreckage with life-threatening injuries and is being rushed to the hospital. Their identity has not been revealed, but some witnesses say that the victim is male and appears to be in his late teens or early twenties. We will provide continuous updates as rescue efforts proceed.” 

The noise. Why is it so loud? 

Surely not. What are the odds of that happening? 

A train accident on April 10th, just like back then. 

No. If that were Akira, he would know. Goro is the first person on Akira’s emergency contacts list. Only one above Sojiro. The hospital would notify him immediately. 

The television clicks off, and Goro is left staring at his reflection. 

He’ll do the laundry. The dishes. Make dinner reservations. Dig that ring out from behind the broken panel in the back of the closet. Finally do the things he always says he will do. 

Because Akira deserves that. 

Akira has down days just like Goro does. They both have days where they can’t bear the thought of getting out of bed and facing the world. That’s always been the difference between them, though. Goro sinks further into the sheets while Akira rises to bathe in the glow of the shadows that still roam the city. He’s really something else. There’s no one else like him. 

“What gives? I called your name five times!” Morgana complains, pushing open the slightly ajar door. 

Goro narrows his eyes. “You’re letting all the cold air in. Close the goddamn-” 

Wait. Morgana?

“You’re not with Akira?”

“No?” Morgana tilts his head. “He let me out when he left this morning. He had business in Shibuya.”

“Shibuya.” Goro repeats. 

“Shibuya.” Morgana confirms.

The phone rings. 

Goro’s phone. 

Everything turns red. Shattering into pieces and floating away like embers of a fire. His erratic heart beats in rhythm with his breathing. Morgana is speaking to him, but he can’t hear. Only the nauseating ringing prevails. It echos somewhere off in the distance even though it’s so close that it shakes him to his very core. 

The inklings of dread have formed an ocean. He’s going to drown. 

“Is this Goro Akechi?”

“...Where is he?” 

“Can you confirm your-”

“ _Where is he?!”_ Goro demands, frantically throwing on his shoes and jacket as Morgana watches in a panic. 

“Hiroo Hospital in Shibuya, but-” 

Goro hangs up. 

It’s silent. 

There has to be _something._

“ _Fuck!_ ” Goro screams, pressing his hands to his face. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck-” 

“Akechi? What’s going on?” Morgana says fearfully, tail swishing in distress. 

“Are you staying or going?” Goro’s eyes are wide and wild. He feels an emotion he hasn’t felt in years. 

“What-”

Goro leaves without hearing his answer. 

He races down the steps, nearly knocking over a child playing on them. The mother yells at him, but he continues. Tell your dumbass kid to stop playing on the steps before they really get hurt. 

He runs down the busy sidewalk- shoving people out of the way and crashing into them all at once. Down the road, he spots a parked taxi and a man preparing to get in. 

“Wait, please! Stop!” He waves his hands in the air, desperately trying to catch the man’s attention. He loses his footing and falls, and, not able to catch himself in time, face plants onto the concrete. There is a sickening crack, and pain blossoms throughout his entire head. He cries out as blood gushes freely from his nose, but before much of a noise leaves him, someone is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and tugging him back to his feet. 

“Jesus, kid. Are you okay?” It’s the man. The taxi hasn’t left the curb. 

“I need- I need-” Goro stutters. 

“Hey…” Recognition flickers in his eyes. “Hey! I know you! Aren’t you Goro Akechi? Heard you were taking a break from public appearances.” 

“Yes! Yes, that’s me! Please, I need that cab! There’s been an accident! My- my-”

He usually hates being recognized, but this might work in his favor. It’s not like he looks presentable right now, so maybe if this gets out no one will believe it. 

“My boyfriend was involved in the train derailment this morning! I need to get to the hospital. Please, sir!” He tries to put as much of his princely charm into it as possible, but it looks like it won’t be necessary. 

The man considers it briefly. He checks his watch and glances at his suitcase. 

He nods. “Go. I’ll catch the next one.” 

There are still kind people in the world. Akira isn’t the only one. Maybe some people are worth saving. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll- I’ll find you. I’ll repay you.” 

“Don’t worry. Hope he pulls through.” 

Goro scrambles into the vehicle, not bothering with the seatbelt, he leans forward and tells the driver where to go. 

“Saw you wipe out on the sidewalk; that’s one hell of a nosebleed.” The driver chuckles. “You’re gonna get it all over my seats. There should be some tissues back there.” 

It’s too painful to hold directly to his nose, so he uses a handful to mop up the mess he made. From the way the driver is analyzing him in the mirror, he must look like shit. So much for his reputation. 

The car speeds up. Changes lanes. Settles on a solid 100 km. 

_“I murdered your friend’s father.”_

_“Yeah, but you’re pretty. And we can kill your father.”_

_“You don’t mean that.”_

_“No, but we can change his heart. The pain won’t go away, but we can start to heal.”_

Why does that of all memories bring a smile to his face? And why is he thinking of it now?

_“You’re so beautiful like this.“_

_“Just like this?”_

_“Beautiful here, gorgeous always.”_

_“Never took you for a sweet talker.”_

_“How so? I have an entire Detective Prince alter ego.”_

_“Mm. Kiss me.”_

Is there a reason why these moments are coming back to him? 

_“I love you.”_

_“Are you telling me this because you think it's what I want to hear? Or telling me because it will give me a reason to stay?”_

_“Both. I do love you. But it’s not a good enough reason, is it?”_

_“It’s not. You’re making this harder for yourself.”_

_“Am I making it harder for myself or for you?”_

It’s not fair. Why is he not allowed to have anything good in his life? Akira is all he has. He can’t leave. He can’t… 

“What’s the holdup?” Goro says angrily. They haven’t moved a single inch in several minutes. 

“That train accident threw off a lot of schedules. We’re gonna be stuck in traffic for a while.” 

“Take a different road!” 

“Does it look like I can?” 

They are surrounded by cars. Bumper to bumper. 

Goro pops open the lock and kicks the door open. 

“What the hell are you doing? You can’t walk!”

“You’re right. I’m going to run.” 

He sprints in short dashes, slides over the hoods of some of the cars and listens to the shouts of the owners. The hospital isn’t far. He just needs to hurry. He doesn’t know how much time he has left- if any at all. His body aches, and there is a pinch in his side from the extra cardio, but he runs harder. Faster. A little bit farther. 

He is getting strange looks from pedestrians, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. Akira wouldn’t. Akira has never cared about what people think about him. How is he so untouchable? 

He isn’t. That’s what got them in this situation to begin with.

Goro used to think this building was so pretty, but most people would think that if they never had to visit it. 

Immediately upon entrance, he’s met with the devastated face of Sojiro Sakura. Futaba’s back is turned to him. She’s still in her pajamas- not dressed for the weather at all. 

He approaches them slowly, but it doesn’t take long for them to take notice of him and he to take notice of them. He should have paid closer attention, because Futaba is crying loudly- fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Sojiro is holding onto her tightly as her small body is wracked with sobs. 

“ _You-”_ Futaba becomes less upset and more furious with every tick of the clock. “Where _were_ you? He asked for you! How could you let him down like this?!” Her voice breaks, leaking far too much venom. 

“I’m here! I’m here now, so where is he? Is he going to be okay?” Goro pleads. 

“He’s _gone_ , Akechi. Akira’s gone, and he’s never- he’s never-” Sojiro embraces her once more as she lets out an agonizing cry. It’s not long before Sojiro begins to cry, too. 

And he just stands there. 

His blood drips slowly on the polished white floor, and after a while, a nurse takes him down an empty hallway and back to a small room. She probes him with questions that he doesn’t have the answer to. Questions he can’t even begin to understand. 

A doctor enters and inspects him slowly as if they have all the time in the world. She says that Goro will need surgery if he wants the fracture to heal cleanly. She says that must have been a nasty fall. Or maybe a fight? You’re a detective, right? Does your superior know about this? You’re so young, it would be a shame if a pretty face was ruined because of something so preventable. We have great surgeons here. Are you alright? How is the pain? You’re pale. 

Do you still find me pretty under all that rot, Akira?

“My boyfriend was brought in with severe injuries from an accident. His name is Akira Kurusu. How long will it take for him to recover from this?” His voice is higher, and the cotton stuffed in his nostrils makes it difficult to speak. 

The nurse and doctor lock eyes, and Goro knows the answer before they even open their mouths. 

“Was he in pain?” Goro asks quietly. His limbs are heavy and weak as if he is underwater. He’s never been a great swimmer. 

The doctor shakes her head. “Not for long. I wasn’t his doctor, but he was in shock when they brought him in. He didn’t feel much, if anything at all.” She smiles gently. “I know he was a great patient. So strong.”

Was a great patient. 

“May I see him?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t allow that without the permission of his family. I’m sorry. In my personal opinion, it’s better for you to be spared from that sight. Your final moments with him should remain pleasant.” She holds his hands gingerly. “Is there a friend or family member you can call for support?”

“Akira is all I have.” 

The nurse sniffles and excuses herself to get some towels. 

Call me back, Akira. You should have been there already. 

By the time Goro makes his way back to the waiting room, it’s around noon and Futaba is fast asleep on Sojiro’s lap. Tear tracks stain her cheeks, and she’s far from relaxed even in her dreams- nightmares, no doubt. He took away her mother and now her brother, too. Akira should be here to comfort her. 

No, Akira shouldn’t be here at all. He should be at the cafe. School. The Metaverse. 

Home. 

One by one, all of the former Phantom Thieves arrive. 

Sumire and Yusuke. Sakamoto and Ann. Makoto and Haru, the latter of which has Morgana cradled in her arms. Hopefully he locked the door.

They hug one another. Cry together. 

There’s so much love.

Goro wonders why he’s the only one that doesn’t shed a tear that day. 

* * *

He’s scared to touch anything in the apartment. He sleeps on the floor so Akira’s scent never disappears from their bed. Never touches the dresser because all of Akira’s clothes are in there. The hamper stays filled because Akira is there. The kitchen collects dust because that’s Akira’s space. He doesn’t drink coffee and he buys different soap because that’s Akira. Everything reminds him of Akira, and their home has become a hellscape because of it. 

He stops going to work. Falls behind in school. Ignores the knocks at his door and the voices that call his name. Messages and calls fall on deaf ears because it isn’t Akira. 

It’s not Akira, and that’s what hurts. It hurts more than anything he has ever felt in his life. At least his mother’s death was out of his control. She took her own life. Akira… he didn’t even get to live long enough to see if he wanted his or not. Suicide- he can comprehend it. Suicide makes sense. _Accidents_ \- Accidents don’t make sense. Akira would never let an accident decide his fate. 

Goro keeps a key to their front door tucked under the mat outside. It’s Akira’s key, for when he comes home. They’ve tricked one another before, avoided death a countless number of times, it’s impossible for this to be the reason why Akira doesn’t come home. Right?

It’s nearly been a month, and nothing is the same. Even when Akira comes back, it will never be the same again. How many has Goro hurt? Is this punishment for what he did half a decade ago? 

Sometimes he’s resentful towards Akira. Nothing in Shibuya was important enough for Akira to leave that day. There’s no reason for Akira to stay gone this long, no reason for him to not even tell Goro where he is, even though deep down Goro knows exactly where Akira is at. 

Actions speak louder than words, but kisses and flowers will never be as powerful as telling someone you love them. Goro never told Akira that he loves him, and now he never will be able to, because the longer he sits here by himself, the more he starts to realize that Akira isn’t coming back. He can’t, and even if he could Goro wouldn’t blame him for wanting to be elsewhere. Away from someone that could never get over themselves and just be honest. 

There is no ‘when’. No ‘if’. It’s just not going to happen.

The door opens, and bright light floods in. He hasn’t seen color in weeks. Akira took all the light with him when he left. 

Akira.

“Akira!” Goro’s voice cracks from disuse. He flings the comforter off of himself and jumps to his feet. “Akira, where in the hell have you been? I told you to get your ass back home-” He stops midsentence. 

“Hey, Akechi. It’s been a while. Ann told me to wait a bit longer, but I’ve never been patient, you know? And, well, it’s kind of my job to take care of you now since…” Sakamoto rubs the back of his head anxiously. 

Those are Akira’s keys in his hand. He can’t take his eyes off the keys. Akira’s keys. He has Akira’s keys. 

“Akira wouldn’t want us sitting around like this, so the team is going to Leblanc’s to hang out, and, well, talk. Go through pictures. That kind of thing. Sorry to barge in like this-” Sakamoto sets the keys in a small dish on the coffee table. His hand hesitates when he sees the small leather journal sitting there next to it. “Is this Akira’s probation diary?” 

“Don’t touch it.” Goro grits. 

Sakamoto picks it up anyway, and something inside Goro snaps. 

“I said don’t fucking touch it! Stop! You’re going to- you’re-” Goro rips it from his hands, hugging it close to his chest. “You’ll ruin it with your fucking filthy touch! When was the last time you washed your hands?!”

“Dude, when was the last time you took a shower?” Sakamoto retorts, grabbing Goro’s wrist. 

“Get away from me!” Goro screeches. “Just get out! Get out!” He’s acting like a child. He knows he is, but he can’t let anything in here be touched. Every movement erases a little more of Akira’s presence. It’s already so empty here, he won’t be able to go on if Akira’s all gone. The old probation diary falls to the floor. 

“Akechi, chill out! What’s your deal?” 

“My deal? My _deal?_ You come into my home, which is barely even home at this point because Akira fucked off to God knows where, you get your fucking germs all over everything, and overall disturb my peace!”

“Akechi, you’re wasting away in here!”

“Then let me waste away! It’s better than- better than-”

“What? Facing reality?” Sakamoto tugs Goro forward hard enough to make him stumble. “Akira’s dead, Akechi! He’s dead, and sorry for not being as caring and soft as Ann, but you’re gonna end up just like Akira if you keep this up! I’m not the smartest person in the world, but I know ‘Kira, and I know he’d hate to see you like this! I’ll be damned if you throw everything away after Akira fought so hard to keep you here!” Sakamoto takes a deep breath. “Come on. Don’t do this to yourself. I miss him, too. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing him, but you can’t tear yourself apart because of it. It’s not your fault-”

“Don’t.” Goro blinks away tears. He _won’t_ cry. “You don’t know anything. I killed Akira, and he has every right to hate me. I-”

“It’s because of the subway, huh? All the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns when we were in high school? Akechi, you can’t go blaming yourself for shit that ain’t even your fault. You didn’t kill Akira, no matter how much your mind tries to tell you that. It’s just the depression talking. I know, because I blamed myself, too. Akira wanted to meet up that day so he could show me the ring he got you! Dammit, Akechi! Akira loves you! He loves you so much and you’re disrespecting his memory by acting like he never did! He was ready to throw the world away for you, so don’t say those things about yourself or him!” Sakamoto’s eyes are red and glassy. He’s struggling not to cry just as much as Goro is. “I know we’ve never been close, but let’s do this for Akira, alright? If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for him.” 

Sakamoto’s grip has lessened, and Goro pulls away. Turning around to take in the state of his apartment. 

Akira is gone. He’s dead. He’s known that all along, of course, he did, but it’s easier to pretend that he didn’t. To pretend it wasn’t true. To live in ignorance. 

Akira would have changed his heart. 

_“Am I making it harder for myself or for you?”_

“It still hurts.” Goro whispers. “It hurts, and there’s nothing I can do to make it stop.” 

“And it will for a while. The pain won’t go away, but we can heal.” 

Goro whips back around to Sakamoto. “What did you say?”

Sakamoto grins. “He said that to you, too? I think he said that to everyone at some point… Oh!” He pats around his jacket and takes a small white box out of the pocket. “Here. Open it. It’s… It’s from Akira. And the team.” 

“Akira? But-”

“Don’t think. Open it.” 

Goro scans Sakamoto for any ill intent but finds none. He carefully slides the lid off and leaves it to the rest on the arm of the couch.

His eyes widen at the contents. “This is-”

“Yeah, pretty isn’t it?” 

It’s a necklace with a slim silver chain. On it, a charm of Robin Hood’s mask from the Metaverse rests next to a deep blue and black tungsten ring. Akira’s name is engraved on the inside in red. 

“You were scared of Akira disappearing. Scared of forgetting him. So were we. Boss sent the ashes to a store in America that turns ashes into jewelry. Yusuke drew all of our masks from memory so they could make these. Cool, right?” 

“The ring.” Goro says. 

“I told you. Akira was planning to propose. He was going to Shibuya to pick up the ring and meet me to decide where he was going to do it.” 

Akira knew the entire time.

“I can’t hide anything from him. Even in death, he has to one-up me.” And Goro smiles. He smiles for the first time in forever, because at this moment, not everything is awful and not everything is dark. “Ryuji, when are you heading to Leblanc?”

“Right now, but luckily for you, I left a bit early. So if hypothetically speaking, you decided to hop in the shower because man, do you need one- and got dressed; we’d still make it there at the agreed time.” Ryuji sways back and forth, gesturing to the hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom. “I’ll wait here for you, and I won’t touch anything. Promise.” 

He hasn’t been out in a while. He’s been waiting for Akira to return. 

The necklace glistens, and Goro lifts it from the box. 

Akira is already home. 

“I’ll be ready in 10 minutes.” 

He uses Akira’s strawberry soaps. A coffee scrub that Akira once made in a fit of boredom. Wears a collared shirt that Akira hasn’t worn since their anniversary dinner last year. Ties his hair up because it’s the way Akira always liked it. Places the necklace around his neck and in full view for anyone to see. He opens the drawer to his nightstand and grabs a box that holds every note Akira has ever written him in it. Including the ones from that fateful day. 

He’s forgetting one. 

The closet door slides open easily because it has always been that easy to open. He shoves aside old clothes that no longer fit him, scoots shoeboxes of trinkets over, and falls to his knees in front of a crooked panel in the farthest corner of the closet. He removes it with ease. 

A black velvet box is there. Waiting for him. 

It’s a red and black tungsten ring. Goro’s name is engraved on the inside in blue. 

_If you’re seeing this note, it means I already proposed to you. Don’t worry, I’ll let you say your vows first at our wedding. I love you. -Akira Akechi_

“I love you, too, Akira. I’m scared to be lonely, but you made sure I wouldn’t be.” 

Akira doesn’t answer, but that’s okay. He’s always been more of a listener. 

Goro slides the ring onto the necklace. 

“I’ll have to learn how to make coffee. Haru can’t run Leblanc all by herself.”

Not a word.

But it’s okay. 

It’s going to be okay. 

“Goro, you alright in here?” Ryuji knocks as a warning before entering. “Sorry, you were taking longer than you said you would. You okay?” 

Goro tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t realize he is crying until his vision blurs to the point that he can no longer see. “No.” He says simply. “But I’m going to be. Eventually, I will be.” He huffs because he doesn’t like to cry, especially not in front of people, but Ryuji doesn’t seem to care. He sits next to Goro and envelops him in a bone crushing hug. Goro reciprocates.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but… Your nose is hella crooked. You gonna get that fixed?” Ryuji asks, and Goro snorts. Ryuji chuckles. They laugh. It’s hysterical. 

And then Ryuji is squeezing him tighter and Goro is shoving his face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. 

They aren’t laughing anymore.

It’s nice to cry, even if he doesn’t like it. Ryuji is shuddering, and everything they held back before is let out all at once. 

“Thank you for showing me how to live again, Akira.” 

Whether he was referring to the events that transpired five years ago or today, he wouldn’t know, but as he goes through photo albums full of memories and watches old videos of Akira laughing cheerfully with everyone, he thinks that is one thing he will never have to thank him for again. 


End file.
